O.J. TRIAL BRINGS TO MIND COLEMAN CIVIL-RIGHTS CASE

I haven't forgotten what happened in my world the day O.J. Simpson was
found not guitly of murder. Though he was able to put together maybe the
best defense team in history and those lawyers poked numerous holes in the
prosecution's case. ...

Though the lead witness for the prosecution was effectively painted as a
racist rogue cop who frequently used the n-word. ...

Though a not guilty verdict doesn't mean declared innocence...

Though "The Trial of the Century" was more Vaudeville than a true exercise
in jurisprudence, the case - so many analysts and everyday citizen said -
came down to one issue. Race.

The prosecutors, who compounded the mishandling of evidence with a comedy
of errors inside the courtroom, couldn't bring themselves to even think
that maybe, just maybe, some of their mistakes allowed a killer to go free.

It was all about the inability of the mostly black - though not all black -
jury to move beyond a perceived racial allegiance.

People were angry. Bitter.

A colleague told me then, with a straight face that barely hid his disgust:
"This shows poorly on the black community."

Never mind I, and most of the black people I knew, had never met Simpson,
or particularly cared for him. Never mind I didn't cheer as too many others
did, never mind I, too, grieved for those two murdered souls.

Didn't matter. My colleague indicted me because Simpson and I shared a
similar concentration of melanin.

I felt the anger as I walked across the campus at Davidson College, where I
was an intern after graduating from the prestigious private institution.
People were reacting as though Armageddon had just commenced.

The reaction was starkly different a few years earlier though, when Rodney
King was pummeled by batons and black boots.

Four of the police officers involved received not guilty verdicts, and the
same people who would years later cry foul at Simpson's verdict did nothing
more than come up with ways to explain away the apparent miscarriage of
justice.

King was high on drugs, speeding, resisting arrest. King was a criminal,
they told me.

Yet, even today, Simpson's name is frequently brought up as evidence of
misplaced black loyalty.

I wanted to remind you of that before I told you this:

Thomas Roland Coleman, a cop - or should I say a criminal with a badge -
patrolled Tulia, Texas, in the late 1990s as an undercover narcotics officer.

According to several accounts, he lied his way into numerous convictions.
He worked alone, kept no notes, collected no evidence. No evidence.

But by the time he finished his fine police work, for which he was named
Texas' outstanding narcotics officer in 2000, Coleman had arrested about 10
percent of Tulia's black residents, some receiving sentences of up to 90 years.

The judge who presided over most of the cases, the sheriff who vouched for
Coleman's credibility, as well as the district attorney, knew the officer
had a long-tarnished law enforcement record. But that was kept from both
the defense and the jury.

And on top of that, Coleman freely used the n-word in front of task force
supervisors while conducting his investigations.

In special hearings held earlier this year to determine the extent of
Coleman's deception, the presiding judge, according to The Associated
Press, called Coleman "the most devious, nonresponsive witness this court
has witnessed in 25 years on the bench in Texas."

It's the kind of case civil rights leaders have been for decades trying to
ring the alarm about.

It's why the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People
stepped in and was among the primary forces that shed light on the problem
and why justice is now possible.

But I bring this to you for a simple reason. I wanted to know if it would
anger you as much as Simpson's verdict. Make your blood boil as much.

And if doesn't, I want to know what that says about your misplaced racial
loyalty.